


Beautiful Disfunction

by Peter164



Series: Alternate Universe [7]
Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Addiction, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Angst with a Happy Ending, Asexual Steve Rogers, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, I couldn't handle it if it didnt, I promise it's got a happy ending, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Past Abuse, Referenced Anorexia, Romantic Fluff, Self-Harm, Substance Abuse, Suicidal Thoughts, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-26
Updated: 2016-07-01
Packaged: 2018-05-22 01:12:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6065266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Peter164/pseuds/Peter164
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky knew he needed to face his problems head on. But instead he would drown himself. He didn't remember what it felt like to have a clear head. He wouldn't recognize the world without the spinning. He knew he was bad, but he couldn't stop now. Steve was little help to him. He tried to be there, but even he was trying to hunt down his next fix. Be it a scary movie, or jumping off a building. </p><p>(Rated M for serious substance abuse and dangerous activities.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please read through the tags. This is a story about addiction, be aware of that.

Steve stepped inside, careful not to make a sound. Bucky was passed out on the couch, not unusual anymore. He picked him up like he was his blushing Bride. Bucky subconsciously wrapped his arms around his neck. He placed him gently in their bed and pulled the blankets up. He glanced at the clock, 2:28. Shit, later than usual. Steve crawled into bed with his boyfriend, and curled around him. 

He kissed the top of his head. It couldn't have been an hour since he had leveled off and he already craved more. He wanted to squeeze in a Five Nights at Freddy's let's play, but he knew it would give him nightmares. But maybe he could wake up high on his own hormones that way. He kept his phone situated on the nightstand, preventing him from doing anything with it. 

Soon, he too, fell unconscious. Before he fell for Bucky, his nose wrinkled at the strong smell of alcohol. At this point it had blended so well into his boyfriend's skin that Steve lost the ability to know the difference between his natural aroma and the scent of his drunk stumbling. Now his nose was buried in hair perfumed with whatever it was.

Morning came and Steve awoke to the sound of his alarm blaring. He kissed Bucky's cheek and climbed out of bed. He pulled his clothes on and started on breakfast. He held his breath when he felt weight on his shoulder. He blinked in surprise at Bucky's early rising. 

"Morning." Steve smiled at him. He could feel hot breath on his ear, "How'd you sleep?" 

He tried to keep his voice low. It wasn't possible that Bucky wasn't hungover. He'd been at least tipsy for at least two days. It was surprising he could still stand, to be honest. 

"Awful." His voice was rough and gravelly, "I had bad dreams again."

"You always do when you're drunk." Steve pointed out.

"Well, I'm always drunk." He whined, "Speaking of drunk-" 

"No. You just woke up. Can you at least stay away until I leave for work?" Steve asked. 

"No promises." Bucky left a quick kiss on his ear and went to sit at the table. Steve left the kitchen to get asprin. He set the pills on the table with a glass of water before he sat down. He felt needy again. He pulled his phone out and scrolled through his Tumblr page. GIFs of monsters jumping out at you, photos of motorcycle accidents and facial surgery. Some of them made him want to throw up, but even the slight rush of chemicals flowing through his blood made him feel better. 

"You're looking at bloody things again." Bucky had his head on the table. Steve blushed and turned his phone off, "Don't get embarassed. Face it, you're a Junkie."

"I don't think I'd go that far-" 

"Takes one to know one." Bucky said, "Trust me, you're fucking addicted to 'em." 

"Watch your mouth." Steve smiled a little at him. Bucky giggled. Memories flooded back to them. Bucky's hair was shorter, Steve was skinnier. A stubbed toe and a scolding for using such foul language. A kiss, a fake pout. Maybe a drink. Maybe a couple more. He wasn't _that_ drunk Stevie. The sweet memory faded like a photo held over a match. 

"Shouldn't you get to work?" Bucky asked. Steve nodded. 

"I wish I could stay with you." He said. He stood up and kissed his cheek goodbye, "Try not to drink so much I have to carry you to bed tonight."

"Try not to stay out late to scale buildings tonight." Bucky smiled sadly. He did everything sadly now.

"Only if you try to stay sober." Steve hugged him, "Remember my promise."

"I know." Bucky said, "Maybe later we can try to figure out what's wrong with me."

"Nothing's wrong with you." He rubbed his shoulder, "I have to go. I'll see you tonight."

Steve left to work. Bucky tried. He forced himself to remember that, he tried. 93 minutes went by before he was shaking. His heart felt like it was beating out of his chest. Yesterday it was 97. The day before was 105. He dug through the cabinets for anything he could find to sooth his pain. An hour and a half later he had burned through a bottle of vodka. 

He stumbled his way into the kitchen. He needed coffee. Coffee made him feel better. He didn't want to make Steve upset. He was coming home for lunch soon, he should be. Bucky wouldn't be surprised if he went running instead. He worked in a hospital dammit. He should get enough excitment. Bucky had stopped by when things were better a couple times to bring him things. 

It was always busy. Everything moved so fast he didn't know who was what or when was where. It was perfect for Steve. He got to help people while he fed the addiction he refused to admit he had. Bucky could see it for what it was though. It occurred to him that Steve probably made a lot of money. He'd never thought to ask, or check. Why were they living in a cheap one bedroom apartment in Brooklyn? Did nurses make as much as doctors? He couldn't think straight enough to figure it out. 

He figured out the coffee machine. He pulled out a mug, hoping it didn't break on the way down to the counter. Miraculously, he ended up at the table with a mug warming his hands. Steve walked in the door, and kissed his boyfriend on the cheek. He sat next to him. Bucky rested his head on his shoulder.

"I missed you." Bucky bit his lip and nuzzled his nose in his neck. He wanted to leave kisses all along the pale skin, suck bruises into it, taste it. But even drunk he remembered their promise. The problem was that he couldn't stay sober long enough. He wanted to so badly, but he couldn't do it. He hadn't kissed his boyfriend in two months and eleven days. He kept track. 

"I know. You're drunk again." Steve said. Bucky could see in his eyes that he wanted to tell him how much he missed him too, but he knew why he didn't, "Come back to the hospital with me. I know a nurse who's so sweet. You'll love her. She could keep you company while I work."

"Bring your alcoholic boyfriend to work day?" Bucky asked. 

"I always forget what a sassy little shit you are, all the time." Steve replied, "And I offer because I feel bad leaving you here all alone every day."

"Tomorrow, when I can see straight again." Bucky smiled at him. His head buzzed. He was sure some words slurred together, but he couldn't tell which one's, or if he was even speaking English. Being fluent in three languages (including English) had its downsides sometimes. 

"That means you have to get up." Steve reminded him. Okay, he was speaking in English. That was a good sign. 

"I know." That he knew was something not English. Russian? German? French? Did he even know French? 

"I'll see you tonight." Steve left a kiss on the top of his head. Bucky's brain was still murky, but now it felt less like mud and more like public lake water. He forced himself not to drink any more for the rest of the day. 

By the time the first batch alcohol had worn off and he needed his second, Steve was home. Bucky had fallen asleep. Hoping that he could sleep off some of his issues. What woke him up was Steve gently patting his cheek, seeing if he would open his eyes. He did and the first thing he saw it the darkness was Steve's gentle, smiling face, illuminated by a lamp tucked away in the corner. 

"You're up." He said, "I can't wake you up if you've passed out. Meaning that you aren't that drunk."

"Not drunk, but I am hungover. Can you turn off that lamp?" Bucky covered his eyes with his forearm. 

"Sure." He stood up and clicked the lamp off, "Want to head to bed?" 

"Yes please." He held his arms out for Steve to pick him up. He was carried to their room. He wrapped his arms around Steve and tucked his head under his chin. He tried to sleep, but couldn't. He knew Steve couldn't either. 

"Steve?" He muttered into his chest. The larger man hummed, "Why do you put up with me?" 

"What do you mean?" Steve adjusted himself so he could look at Bucky while they talked. 

"You're 27. You could be married to a great person. Maybe even with a baby or two." Bucky had thought a lot about this, "But instead, you decide to deal with all my fucking problems when I'm too busy drinking to forget they exist in the first place."

"Bucky, I stay here, with you, because I genuinely love you. I'm hoping you can the great person I get to marry. I want to stay with you forever. But that's hard to commit to when you can barely stand up on your own." Steve cradled his cheek. 

"Then leave. I won't be upset. I know it's easier to." He could feel a lump grow in his throat. 

"I'm not leaving. Not until you do something really awful. I want to help people. And last I checked checked you're a people too. Which means I want to help you, which I can't do until you want to be helped." Steve kept his voice low, keeping precious Bucky's head quiet for him. 

"But I have so many problems with my head. And-"

"We'll fix it." Steve smiled at him, "We can make you better. You forget all my health issues. If those don't bother me, then you an be okay too."

"Do you still carry your inhaler around?" Bucky asked, remembering the scrawny little boy he fell in love with. With his thick glasses and his braces. Carrying around his inhaler, trying not to crush it under his piles of books. The dictionary definition of a nerdy kid. But that nerdy kid turned into quite the adorable hipster. 

"Yeah. Even though I haven't had problems breathing for 4 years." He admitted. 

"I had to pick you, didn't I?" Bucky laughed at himself a little. 

"We'll I had to go and fall for the depressed one with daddy issues."

"Pierce isn't my dad." Bucky said solidly, "There's a reason I don't want you meeting the great Alexander Pierce. I don't care how well known he is, or how charitable he seems. Oh wow he adopted the problem child, he's so great and magnificent. He won't treat him badly at all."

"I wish you would tell me what he did to you." Steve said. 

"I did. I said he fucked me up. Didn't I?" Bucky almost growled. 

"I want you to tell me specifics. What did he do?" Steve asked. 

"Goodnight, Steve." Bucky turned away from him. 

"Buck-"

"I said goodnight." He repeated. Steve kissed the back of his neck and put his arm around Bucky's waist. Neither of them slept very well that night.


	2. Chapter 2

Tonight's nightmare revolved around Pierce. The thing with Bucky's nightmares was that, they weren't. They weren't things his head designed to torture him. Instead, he relived old memories, but in a choppy way. Like everything is blended together into a hell smoothie. He picked out little chunks at a time, piecing them together into a collage of trauma. 

He heard Pierce telling him what a shity kid he was. He could still feel himself curled into a ball on the floor, trying so hard not to scream or cry. After his years of endurance he knew it made it worse. Welts appeared over his skin. A deep cut formed below the left half of his ribcage. He saw himself in the mirror, covering up the bruise under his eye. His lip was bleeding, but he'd suffered through worse. It went away pretty quickly if he didn't talk very much. He could taste blood as he bit down on his tongue, doing his best to keep quiet. 

But the worst part was remembering his "coming out". That meant that Pierce found out he had a secret boyfriend and called him names that Bucky only ever repeated in his head, when he caught sight of his reflection. He could feel the cold air against his exposed skin, rope cutting into his sensitive wrists. He saw all of them gathered around. Pierce just left, locking the door behind him. Leaving them with only a "have fun". 

Bucky was 15 again. Trying to pull his hands out of his restraints. He begged them to stop, tears streaming down his pale cheeks. After what felt like weeks, but was only an hour and a half according to the clock hung on the wall, they all had their turn. Leaving him worn out. His throat hurt so bad from screaming that he couldn't talk if he wanted to. Another half hour later and the door clicked open. He wished he was a doll. Dolls don't feel. He was limp as he was untied. He simply walked up the stairs, he didn't have anything down there anyway. He flopped down on his bed and didn't move for two days, unless he was eating, getting water, or going to the bathroom. 

~*~

He woke up nauseous. He felt his stomach convulse and he hurried to the bathroom. He threw up in the toilet. He felt Steve put a hand on his back. Even awake he could feel their hands down his chest and legs. He could hear them laughing at his pain. He felt them push inside and pound until they came. All it did was fuel his spasming. 

He tried to focus on where he was. He concentrated on the hand petting his back. He listened to the the quiet, small voice that told him it would be okay. He was safe. He had Steve. 

"I'm here. It can't hurt you anymore. I'll protect you." Steve told him until he managed to calm down. He slouched down on the floor and curled into a corner. He felt tears welling in his eyes. Steve just smiled warmly at him and picked him up. He set him on the counter to clean him up. It wasn't long before they were laying back in bed. The numbers in the clock glowed red, 3:27. 

"Can you tell me what's wrong?" Steve asked. Bucky shook his head, "Can you tell me one thing that I don't know about you? Something that's making you hurt so badly?" 

"Pierce adopted me because he wanted a good reputation. He didn't care about me." Bucky said. The grip around his waist tightened. 

"I'm sure that's not true. I'm positive he-"

"He told me. He looked me right in the eyes and told me he didn't care what happened to me. Long as I shaped up in public so that it made him look good." He interupted. You could nearly hear Steve's heart break. 

"You know I care about you, right?" He sounded so lost. He head burrowed in Bucky's back. 

"I know." He did. He knew Steve cared, maybe more than he should, but he didn't feel it. He didn't feel like someone cared. He felt the same way he did at 15. Eyes glazed over, hidden under blankets and pillows, staying silent and still. 

"Do you think you can go back to sleep?"

"Hopefully." Bucky nuzzled closer to his boyfriend. 

"I'm here. And Dr. Erskine would love to talk, I'm sure." Steve rubbed his tummy. 

"Why'd he have to be German? His accent sounds like Zola." Bucky said blankly. 

"If you had a conversation with him, you wouldn't think so."

"Really?" Bucky sounded sarcastic, "Next are you going to tell me that trying to put salt in a papercut won't hurt as bad as I think once I try it."

"Bucky, please just try it out. I have an appointment on Thursday already, you have it." Steve told him, "I'll come with you. And if you don't want me to hear, then I'll wait in the lobby."

"Fine. One time. If he helps, we'll see about more. But if he triggers something, I'm done." He compromised. 

"So tomorrow, or today I guess, is Wednesday." Steve reminded him, "And you're going into work with me. You can bring a book or something, or talk with my nurse friends."

"Okay. Can I go back to sleep?" He asked. 

"If you promise to wake me up if you have another nightmare." Steve kissed his forehead. Within minutes, they were both asleep again.

~*~

Steve held Bucky's hand as he walked into the hospital. He lead him up to a girl with curly, blonde hair. She was decently pretty and smiled at them when she saw Steve. 

"Hi, Sharon." He smiled back at her, "This is my boyfriend, Bucky. I've told you about him I think."

"You have a boyfriend?" Her expression fell but she tried to keep a smile on her face. 

"Who else would Bucky be?"

"A friend, or roommate maybe." She shrugged. Bucky examined the back of the desk they were next to. Little trinkets littered the surface, but it seemed decently tidy. 

"Oh, I thought I made it pretty obvious. Guess not." He soon forgot the subject, "Hey, Buck, why don't you go get your stuff from the car? I know you left everything there."

"Okay." Bucky knew they were talking about him. He wasn't that stupid. He was probably telling her not to let him drink anything that might contain alcohol. Most likely discussing his problems with depression and self-esteem. He grabbed his things, which included a book, headphones, and a charger for his phone. He managed to catch the tail end of the conversation before getting noticed. 

"He's just in a tough spot right now." He heard Steve whisper to her, "And I can't watch him every minute of every day to make sure he's okay. And I thought that maybe you could just check on him and see if he's hurt or anything."

"Steve, I don't know, I'm so busy." She responded. 

"Please. Just one day. I'm taking him to therapy tomorrow, this'll only go on until I can figure out what else I can do." He begged her, "I love him to hell and back, and I want him to get better. More than anything."

"Okay. Alright." She reluctantly agreed. He could see just enough to know Steve hugged her. A stern voice summoned him over. Bucky stepped into view. Sharon smiled at him. 

"Hi." She greeted, "Steve tells me you're into science. Care to elaborate?" 

"Sure." He sat and they talked about chemistry and biology for 86 minutes. That's when the shaking started. She put a hand on his knee and asked if he was okay. He nodded, "I'm used to it by now. But normally I can drink and it goes away. Obviously I can't do that."

"Withdrawal?" 

"It's just shaking. Isn't withdrawal when you're convulsions and sweating and screaming?" He asked. 

"Sometimes. But not always." She explained withdrawal briefly to him. Why it happened. What chemicals it used. What the effects were. How varied it could be, "Luckily you're in a hospital, so if you have a seizure we can get you taken care of pretty quickly."

"That's true." He shrugged, "So, how long have you had a crush on Steve?" 

"Excuse me, I don't think I-"

"It's obvious. He's just stupid." He explained. She tensed up and he smiled at her, "Calm down. I'm just curious. I promise."

"A while." She answered. 

"Less or more than a year?" He questioned. 

"Less."

"You're getting off easy. I was mooning over him for two years before I managed to get the courage to ask him out." Bucky told her, "Of course I'd being flirting like a maniac for almost that whole time and he didn't notice. Like I said, he's stupid. Especially when it comes to romance."

"You're joking." She teased him. 

"Once I literally sat on his lap and he didn't know I was flirting." He laughed at the memory. He had seen Steve, all skinny and precious, sitting on a bench reading a book. He walked over and placed himself on Steve's thighs. He curled up, arms around his neck and nose burried in his neck. 

"Really?" Her eyes widened. 

"Oh yeah. But don't try that out because he knows that's flirting now, I told him that." He laughed, Sharon soon joined in. 

"You guys live together, right?" She asked. 

"Yeah. I couldn't support myself if we didn't. I can't support myself and we do actually." He pointed out. 

"So you share a bed?" These questioned seemed to be leading somewhere. But Bucky wasn't sure where that was. 

"That's normally how it works." He said. 

"So do you ever do anything with each other there? Besides sleeping?" She asked awkwardly. 

"You want to know about sex with Steve Rogers?" He didn't even blink. Steve would've been a whole different story, blushing and stuttering all over the place. She shrugged a little, "That's too bad, because I've never had sex with him. Ever."

"Why?"

"I don't know if he's got things going on or not, but I can tell you that on my side of the equation I don't have great experiences with sex. Actually pretty awful experiences with sex." He bit down in his lip. 

"I'm sorry. It wasn't my place to ask anyway." She told him. 

"It's fine. I can't care about things that I don't have." He leaned back in his chair. They continued talking about random things for hours before Steve needed to go home. Bucky was getting anxious and his shaking hands got worse. He felt nauseous and tired. But he went home anyway and drowned himself in alcohol in efforts to curb his craving.


	3. Chapter 3

"You'll do just fine, Buck." Steve smiled at him and held his hand as they walked to the door, "Remember you don't have to tell him anything you don't want to. He's here to help."

"You only said that 17 times." Bucky wanted to curl up into a ball. 

"You need to look at the positive side. You have to talk to someone, I don't care who it is. But I'd like to know how to help you. This is a step forward." He said. They sat and waited to be called back. The man came out of a back room, he looked pleasant enough, but when he opened his mouth all Bucky could think of was that chubby little face with those big, fat glasses. 

"I don't know if you got my call, but I'm giving Bucky my appointment today. I've told you about him before." Steve urged Bucky forward. He rubbed his elbow, using his arms to block himself. It was subconscious at this point. When you hear that voice, you hide anything that could get easily hurt. 

"I did. Care to follow, Bucky?" He smiled warmly. Despite the vocal difference, that damn accent was still there, "You're not coming. Would you like Steve to come back for the first few minutes so you can get comfortable?"

"I'm fine." He felt like a caged animal. 

"Then please come in." He urged gently. Bucky swallowed and repeated Steve's words over and over in his head. Erskine sat down in one of the big chairs. Bucky sat as far away as he could. 

"Now, what does the problem seem to be?" He asked, he had a clipboard on his lap, but he didn't look at it. 

"Alcoholism." Bucky didn't hesitate, "I know that most people aren't aware that they have a problem. But trust me, I have a problem. Isn't that the first step to solving a problem, admitting you have one in the first place?" 

"That is, yes." He nodded, "But we're doing things differently. For now we will focus on what makes you happy, besides alcohol of course." 

"Fun." Bucky said, his voice dripped with sarcasm. 

"Let's start with Steve."

"What about him?" He felt defensive, even if he didn't really mean to be. 

"He is your boyfriend, right?" Erskine asked. 

"And the only person willing to put up with my shit." He shook his head like a dog, trying to get his hair to cover up his neck and shoulders. 

"So he makes you feel happy?" 

"Yeah. He does." Bucky smiled. 

"Why?" He leaned forward, the clipboard forgotten on his lap, "Tell me about your happiest memories with Steve."

"Well, there is one thing that particularly stands out." He bit his lip to try and stop the smile on his face. 

"What?"

"Before we started dating, he was so skinny. Skinny enough that I could wrap my hand around his wrist and my thumb and pinkey could touch each other. And I decided that this blushing little baby needed to know how to dance. So I started teaching him how to Lindy-"

"Pardon me, I'm not very versed in dances, the Lindy?" Erskine asked. 

"A swing dance from the 30s. My Grandma taught it to me before she died. Then my mom helped me with it after that." Bucky was still smiling, "Steve and I were dancing away. And I grabbed his hand and spun him into me. And the next thing I knew, my hands were on his waist and he was blushing brighter than Mars. And he was so boney. I could feel his spine through his skin and his hip bones."

"I feel like something happened after that." Erskine said, "Was there a kiss involved?" 

Bucky nodded, "Our first. I asked him out right after that."

"I assume it went well." He smiled at him, "And I take it you enjoy dancing."

"I love it. Or I did when I could regularly walk in a straight line." He shrugged, "It'd be nice to dance again. And to kiss Steve again."

"Does he not anymore?" 

"He said that we could be physical again when I'm sober for more than a day." Bucky explained. 

"And is that motivation for you?" 

"Until I get shakey and I can't breathe." He answered. 

"Okay, I have something for you to do." Erskine told him. 

"What would that be?"

"When you feel like you need to drink I want you to think about Steve." He said, "Go visit him at work, call him, get Snapchat and send each other pictures for you to look at. Whatever you feel like doing. Remember how happy he makes you feel. Can you do that?" 

"I'll try."

"No." Erskine shook his head, "You've seen Star Wars."

"Yeah." He'd forgotten about his Star Wars t-shirt.

"Listen to Yoda. There's no such thing as try. Now, are you going to do, or do not?" He asked again. 

"I'll do. I'm just worried about how busy Steve is." Bucky shook his head. 

"Snapchat. You can send each other silly little pictures and videos that take almost no time to make." He explained, "And I know I said I only had one thing for you, but there's something else."

"Okay."

"No more alcohol in your house. Pour it all down the sink and throw away the bottles. And you're not allowed to buy more, understood?" He asked. Bucky nodded, "Tell me you understand, Bucky."

"I understand." He squeaked. He ran his fingers through his hair, pulling it back behind him. 

"Good. Now is it okay for me to bring Steve in? I can't tell him anything we talked about without your permission. But I would like to tell him about your plans to help you stop."

"Okay." He agreed. Erskine stood up and walked out the door. He came back a few minutes later with Steve trailing behind him.

"Hi, Buck. How've you been doing?" He smiled. 

"Alright." He told him. 

"Would you tell Steve what your plans are to help yourself?" Erskine nodded for him to continue, "Or should I?" 

Bucky gestured towards him. 

"So, first off, Bucky is going to find a way to get ahold of you instead of drinking. One of my recommendations is Snapchat." He explained. 

"What's Snapchat?" Steve tilted his head. 

"It's a phone app that let's you send photos or short videos that disappear after a few seconds. My niece gets very excited about it. And you're also getting rid of all the alcohol in your home. You can keep rubbing alcohol and such. Now, from what I gather he starts getting withdrawal problems after a very short amount of time. Normally I'd be concerned for his health going on a full detox, but as you are a medical professional, I'm not too worried." 

"That sound amazing." Steve grinned and stared at Bucky, who was beginning to curl back up. 

"Maybe then, you and I can talk about what you can do to help him overcome this." He told Steve. 

"I'm also going to try and convince him to come back and talk to you." Steve said. Bucky sat over to the side and listened, enjoying being out of the conversation. 

"Is he aware of why you're coming to see me?" Erskine questioned. Steve shook his head. He gestured over to Bucky. 

"Panic disorder." He said, "And before that I was with a different therapist to help with anorexia."

"Is that why you were so skinny?" Bucky felt simultaneously angry and sad at the idea of Steve hating himself that much. 

"I'd started eating again by the time we met, but yeah." Steve said. 

"Oh my God. Steve, you're such an idiot. How dare you do that to yourself." Bucky scolded him. 

"How dare you drink so much you can't stand up." Steve countered. Bucky shut up. 

"I'm sorry to do this, but I'm afraid you're out of time for today. I'll see you next week, Steve." Erskine smiled at the too of them. 

"Thank you." Steve said. He helped Bucky up and they left. Steve took him to the store and let him pick out a treat. Whatever he wanted, as a reward for letting Steve help him. Bucky ended up getting a bag of Starbursts. 

They walked in the door and Steve sent him off to find every bottle and bring it to him. Bucky may or may not have snuck in a few swigs to curb his craving. Most of it ended up being vodka. Steve handed him an almost full bottle and pointed to the sink. Bucky took a deep breath and opened it with shakey fingers. 

He turned it upside down and watched as the clear liquid flowed down the drain. Steve gave him a kiss on the cheek and handed him another. Bucky poured it out. The garbage was full of empty bottles. With each one emptied out, Bucky got another peck on the cheek, the nose, the forehead, but not the lips. 

It took an hour to clean out the house, but they managed to get it done. When they finished, Steve wrapped him up in his big arms and hugged him tightly.

"You did good today Bucky. You might just get another kiss again tomorrow." He grinned, "But you know the new routine, tell me something new about you that might help me make you feel better."

"Uhm," There were dozens of things he could tell him, about, but which to pick, "The scars on my back are from when Pierce would hit me with a broken broom handle."

"A what?" Steve's jaw dropped.

"When he first adopted me, he sent me out sweeping and I accidentally broke the handle off a wooden broom. He kept it and would hit me with it so I wouldn't forget what an awful person I was." Bucky said. 

"You're not awful though." Steve held Bucky's face in his hands. 

"Yes I am."

"No. Not at all." Steve assured him, "I have an idea. Why don't we watch a scary movie."

"Okay." Bucky nodded, "Can I sit on your lap?" 

"Sure." Steve smiled, "Come on let's pick something out."

Eventually they settled on Annabelle. That was a mistake on Bucky's part. He'd forgotten about his automatonophobia, even if it was mild. He hadn't been to an Old Navy in a very long time because of his stupid fear. He couldn't ever go alone. He ended up spending the whole movie with his head buried in Steve's shirt, where he could hear his heart beat speeding up. At one point he decided to peak his head out just as the girl looked beneath the door and the doll dropped down. Bucky screamed and hugged Steve's waist. He didn't even care about his promise right now. He could feel Steve chuckling. 

He wanted to push him, but that would mean sticking his head back out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Automatonophobia is the fear of figures designed to resemble humans. I have a mild version of this fear and I hate Old Navy because the mannequins are terrifying.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BTW it's 101 degrees Fahrenheit. This is a Captain America fanfic so I'm using the fucking American measurement. But for literally anyone who is not American that's about 38 degrees.

Bucky woke up confused. His head didn't hurt, his mouth didn't feel like cotton. Then it dawned on him, he wasn't hungover. He nearly cheered. Steve walked in their room and kissed him, on the mouth, for the first time in two and a half months. Bucky just about moaned. 

"I wish I could do that every morning." Steve muttered into his mouth, "Why do you insist on drinking so much?" 

"You're such an ass." He couldn't stop himself from grinning, "I feel like absolute shit but I couldn't possibly be happier right now."

"I'm not surprised you feel awful. Mind if I take your temperature? Just want to make sure you're not going to die." Steve asked. Bucky just laughed. 

"Do whatever the fuck you want. I couldn't possibly care less." He said. Steve got back up and left to get a thermometer. One of the bonuses of living with a nurse is that they always have exactly what you need. Which is also a curse, because they're always so protective.

Turns out Bucky had a 101 degree fever. Which meant Steve wouldn't let him out of bed. 

"I have to go to work. I'd let you come with me, but you should stay in bed, at least until your fever wears off. If not until withdrawal wears off." He instructed, "There's ice cream in the freezer in case you get too hot. But if you start shivering that's bad. I'll leave my phone on if you need to get ahold of me. I feel better about this because I know there's no alcohol. I checked all your hiding places."

Bucky kissed him again. 

"Buck, I really have to go." Steve told him. 

"I haven't been able to do this for more than two months. I'm not wasting any opportunities." Bucky shook his head and pecked his lips one more time, "Bye."

"Bye." Steve smiled, "I'll be back tonight. I get a day off tomorrow so we can enjoy our weekend, if you haven't gone borderline Exorcist yet with the vomiting and paranoia and anger and the awful DTS that I'm totally looking forward to."

Bucky laughed. He probably shouldn't have. He'd been in so deep he had withdrawal a lot sooner than most people, but that also meant it didn't last as long. If Steve's hospital stories are anything to go by, then he'd probably be mostly fine by next week. Right now he felt like he just had a really bad case of the flu. It took ten minutes of Steve's absence to make Bucky decide he needed a nap, and it started with nothing but pleasant dreams. 

Steve's boney little hand was pulling on Bucky's through a field. He remembered this. The field was behind Steve's house. He was visiting for spring break back in college. They'd been dating for almost a year then and they felt it was needed to tell Steve's mom about their relationship. 

But in that moment then, Steve was pulling him around to go see a rabbit. Bucky teased him, something about Alice in Wonderland. Steve knelt down in the patch of flowers to pet the strangly friendly bunny. Bucky sat next to him and nuzzled his nose in his neck. Steve turned around and kissed him hard enough to make him fall over backwards. 

And suddenly Steve was straddling him and Bucky had his hands on his hips. They pulled back from each other and giggled, foreheads propped up together. Steve sat up and sat back on his thighs, Bucky soon followed. 

"We should make flower crowns." Steve suggested, his arms around Bucky's neck. 

"I've never made a flower crown." Bucky said. 

"What?" Steve faked gasped, "This is an outrage. I'm teaching you how to make a flower clown."

"Fine." He held his hands up in surrender, "What do I do?" 

Steve carefully directed him on how to braid the flowers together, how to add flowers to the chain, how to keep them from breaking. Soon they were just sitting together braiding flowers together. A thought passed quickly through Bucky's head. Pierce would beat his ass of he saw him like this. Making flower crowns with his boyfriend, who was sitting on his lap with no intention of moving, after they were chasing rabbits through the meadow. The idea made his hands shake, which in turn made his break the stems off of the flowers. He swore. 

"Language, Buck." Steve harped. He finished twisting the stems together and placed the flowers on Bucky's head. 

"How you do that so fast?" Bucky asked. 

"Practice. And small fingers." He grinned, "Now let's fix your's."

"Sorry I broke it." He felt guilty. 

"It's okay. It happens. Can I ask what made you so upset?" He rested his forehead on Bucky's shoulder while he guided his fingers along to fix the crown. 

"I told you about Pierce right?" He asked. 

"Not a lot. You don't seem to like him that much." Steve said as he finished pulling out all the broken stems and pulled apart the braid until Bucky could start up again. 

"I don't really. For a lot of reasons. He wasn't too keen on the gay thing." He started, "And I just realized that I'm making fucking flower crowns with my boyfriend on my lap. Just brought back bad memories."

"I'm sorry. We can stop if that would make you feel better." Steve looked up at him, "Even if red suits you."

"What? Oh." He smiled, remembering the flowers in his hair. They must've been red, "You're a sweetheart, but I'll be okay. As long as he doesn't crawl out of the bushes like an army man from Toy Story."

"Okay. You're still shaking." He put his hands over Bucky's, "Must've been bad."

"It was." Bucky shrugged a little. 

"What happened?" Steve asked. 

"Give it a few years. You'll be a nurse, like you've always wanted, we'll lay in bed together you'll be all big and full of muscle-"

"Pushing it don't you think?"

"No." Bucky kissed him again, "But that's when I'll tell you. You'll see."

"I think we need to make a deal." Steve said, "On our five year anniversary, I want to sit down with you, okay? You'll have to tell me everything that happened. Because I know something happened that made you refuse to tell me anything about your teenage years. I promise to share my story no matter how awful and tragic your's is. You literally could have been kidnapped by pirates and forced into being a sex slave, and I wouldn't care."

"So, in four years, we swap sob stories?" Bucky asked. Steve nodded. 

"But you've got to promise."

"Promise." He smiled, "But one question, how do you know we'll still be together that long?" 

"Would you kill me of I said a hunch?" Steve bit his lip.

"No. Now stop doing my job for me." He scolded. 

"What job?" Steve tilted his head to the side. Bucky grabbed his cheek and pulled him in, but instead of kisses, he gave him little nips at his bottom lip. He bit and sucker until Steve mewled. He pulled back and giggled, his cheeks were tinted pink. Bucky put the messy, blue chain of flowers on Steve's head. 

"It suits you." He smiled at him. Steve's happy little giggle was the last thing Bucky could recall before he woke up. The smell of fresh air and flowers had left and was replaced by the stuffy, hot air of his bedroom. It was alcohol and sweat. He wanted to escape the awful stench of his own home, but he couldn't. Doctor's order were to stay in bed. The best he could do was open a window to the cold of November.

He got himself some ice cream and thought about his sweet memory. He had remembered that moment, but the specific details had been lost to time. Now, they were resurfaced. Steve probably hadn't forgotten. Despite not remembering until now, he intended to keep his promise. He knew when their anniversary was, but he had no idea what day it was beyond somewhere in November. He turned his phone on and checked the date.

Fuck.

He had two weeks. Give or take a day or two. 12 days until November 23rd. And Thanksgiving was in six days. Not like he much to be grateful for beyond Steve. And neither had much family to go too. But they could still get a pumpkin pie and a bottle of spray whipped cream, maybe actually cook for once, it wouldn't be too bad. 

He called Steve, who luckily was on break. Funny how coincidences happen like that. 

"Hi, Buck." He sounded happy, "How're you feeling?" 

"Still pretty damn awful. I'm in the kitchen eating ice cream." He told him. 

"I told you to stay in bed."

"Did you really expect me to sit there all day?" Bucky asked. 

"Not really." Steve said, "And you better not be eating straight from the tub."

"Too late." Bucky said, sticking another spoonful in his mouth, "And I see my big idiot is learning."

You could almost hear his grin.

"What?"

"Nothing. You just haven't called me your anything in a really long time. I miss it." Steve said.

"Well you're my big, dumb, blond idiot. That make you feel better?" Bucky asked. Steve laughed, "I actually called you for a reason beyond calling you my idiot, believe it or not."

"What would that reason be?" Steve asked. Bucky could hear girls chattering in the background. Probably gossiping about Steve's hot new boyfriend who called him his idiot and greeted him home with candles and red wine. Almost none of that sentence was actually true.

"Remember our Senior year of college? During spring break when you took me to meet your mom. You were chasing rabbits in the field behind your house." He could remember very vividly. 

"And I taught you how to make flower crowns?" Steve asked. 

"Yeah. Remember our promise?" Bucky asked. 

"I do. But, Buck-"

"Shut up. I'm keeping my damn promise." Bucky insisted, "It's time you know anyway. I can't keep it a secret anymore anyway. And don't try and talk me out of it."

"Okay. I won't." Steve backed down, "On a happier note, an old friend of mine invited us over for Thanksgiving if you want to go. A lot of my old friends from college are going to be there. But I get it if you don't want to go."

"No I'd love to. I'd love to meet some of your friends." Bucky smiled even if Steve couldn't see. 

"Awesome. I'll let him know." Steve said, "Hey I got to go. I'll call you when I'm on my way home.'

"Tell Sharon I said hi." Bucky told him.

"I will. I love you, Buck." He said. 

"Love you too, punk." Bucky laughed a little. He hung up the phone and continued shoveling mouthfuls of ice cream in his too hot mouth.


	5. Chapter 5

Bucky wanted to cry. This was not good. If two days ago was a bad flu, this was the bubonic plague. All he wanted was something to drink to soothe his pain. Steve got him some soup to eat. He didn't. 

"Please, I know you don't want to, but you have to eat, Buck." He begged. 

"But everything hurts." He finally let the tears drip down his face. He squeezed his eyes shut. He didn't want to see anything. Suddenly Cordelia Foxx's idea wasn't such a bad one. Every time he opened his eyes Pierce was there, or Zola. On occasion even Rumlow. He was sweating and his heart raced on its own. 

"Come on Buck, can you look at me? Please?" Steve's hands were on his cheeks. He violently shook his head. He knew if he looked at Steve, he would see the broom handle. He'd see the dozen naked men hired to "fuck the gay out". They grabbed at him, tried shoving their dicks down his throat. 

"I can see them, Steve." He cried. 

"I'm sorry Bucky. I'm sorry I can't help you. Just struggle through today and it'll be over. Just get through the day and it'll be okay." He sounded choked up. He crawled into bed next to him and held his arms around his shoulders. He kissed the top of his head. Bucky was shaking all over. Steve gave him water. He greedily drained the glass before biting down on his tongue hard enough to draw blood. 

The only thing worse than the flashbacks blending with reality and the pain he was in, was the depression he felt whenever he wasn't drinking. If Steve wasn't so goddam soft and warm, he'd already be in the bathroom trying to cut himself open again. He already had scars from last time he could trace over. He was only lucky that Steve had never pushed for details on the thick white mountains of healed skin running vertically down his arm. It was stupid, he knew that, but he wanted, more than anything in the world, to die. 

Bucky was curled into a ball. Steve had rested his head on his back, which was progressively growing wetter. If that was because of sweat of Steve's tears, he couldn't tell. He felt kisses pressed into the nape of his neck. He was scooped up and placed in Steve's lap. He kissed the side of his head.

"Please just eat something. You haven't eaten in two days." Steve muttered into his temple, "Just take a deep breath, open your eyes, and eat something. That doesn't sound too bad, does it?" 

"It is bad. I don't want to see them." Bucky said quietly. 

"You'll see me too. I'm real. You can hold my hands and feel that I'm here for you." Steve said, "And I'm sorry I'm never home. I'm sorry I can't go more than a day without an adrenaline high. I'm sorry I wasn't here for you like I should have been. But I'm here now." 

He held Bucky's hands, urging him to look up, please Bucky, please. He wiped the tears off his face and felt Bucky breathe deeply, but shaky. Bucky cracked his eyes open and stared intently at Steve's baby blue eyes. He could see Pierce out of the corner of his eye, he refused to look to the side. 

"Breathe, Bucky, breathe. It's okay, it's not real. I'm real, come here, touch me if you're not sure." Steve assured him. Bucky gripped his shirt tightly. Steve rubbed his back. He kissed his forehead. 

"Steve, I don't want to move." Bucky was shaking. 

"That's okay. That's okay." He spoke softly, "Just keep looking at me. It can't hurt you."

Bucky saw them. The 13 men. Their fingers were claws and they dug into his chest, ripping open his flesh, grinding up on him. He yelped and burrowed into Steve. He enveloped himself in Steve's smell, his heartbeat, now much more regular than when he was little, the feel of his skin. Anything to forget. He wished he could forget. 

Soon it'd all be out anyway. He could tell Steve everything. The broom, the cuts, the blood, the fake smiles. He could finally break the dam. And that almost scared him. He was scared he'd get slapped and his hair would get pulled trying to force his mouth places it didn't want to go. Just like all the other times he tried and failed to get help. 

Steve hugged him, slowly running his fingers down his back. He quietly shushed him like a crying baby. He left caring kisses all across his face. He ran his fingers through his hair. He sang to him as softly as possible. He was doing his best to keep his crying boyfriend calm and happy. Or as close to that as he could get.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter. I know. I'll make the next one longer to make up for that. I wasn't even going to make the chapter at all actually, but I felt it was necessary.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it's not as long as I was hoping it would be (it's actually shorter than the other chapters by a tiny bit) and it's been forever it seems since I've updated. So I'm publishing it.

Bucky woke up feeling awful. Not as bad as yesterday for damn sure, but he wasn't good either. But having a human golden retriever curled around you will definitely make you feel better. Steve's hand was around his waist and his head was buried in his neck. Bucky sighed and relaxed. He felt safe again.

He felt Steve's grip tighten. 

"Are you up?" He asked. 

"Yeah I'm up. Do you have to go in today?" Bucky didn't want him to go. 

"Yeah I do. I get to come home early today though." He said, "Unless I'm needed somewhere random, I should be home by one."

"Somewhere random?" 

"I work in the childrens' ward mostly and sometimes I help out with maternity stuff. So if, for some reason, I need to help someone to heart surgery or something ridiculous like that then I'll be back." Steve said sleepily. 

"What if you have to have, like, 18 women with their babies?" Bucky asked. 

"Then I'll probably be late" He stayed for a few more minutes before getting up, "I'm gonna go eat something."

"I'll come too." He sat up and his head spun. He felt almost hungover.

"You think you can?" Steve asked. 

"I'm fine." Bucky smiled. He was far from fine. But there was no way in hell that he'd let Steve know that. 

"Just stay in bed again today, please. I'll let you visit during lunch break if you're feeling up to it." He left a small kiss on Bucky's cheek. 

"Okay." Bucky sighed. Steve smiled and left. It only took a few minutes before Bucky heard the door close. He got up and walked to the computer. He hadn't done anything like this in a very long time. He searched for recommendations through the Internet and finally settled on one. He logged onto Steam and payed for the game.

It opened with a series of black and white pictures telling the story of a little girl, her cat, and her parents. He was terrified and in love by the time she was with the Doctor. Although it did cross his mind that maybe he shouldn't play this when he was home alone. But he continued on. He had just managed to "help" the twins when Steve called him, he jumped a little when the phone rang. 

"Hey, Buck. How're you feeling?" He asked. 

"Pretty awful, but I've been playing video games again." He said. 

"That's awesome! I'm going on lunch break in about 30 minutes, so if you want to, you can come over to the hospital and tell me about what you've been playing." Steve said. 

"Yeah, sure." Truth be told, Bucky was only kind of going because he wanted to talk about his game. Mostly he just didn't want to be alone anymore. The attic had terrified him to death, with the dolls everywhere and the babies and the twins. 

"Fantastic. I love you."

"Love you too, dumbo." Bucky laughed. He tied up his hair and grabbed his phone before leaving.

When Steve saw him he swallowed him up into a hug and kissed his cheek. A couple more of the nurses giggled behind him. 

"What, you excited to show me off?" Bucky teased. 

"I'm excited that you're okay and you're happy and you're sober." Steve grinned at him. He pulled on his hand to introduce him to his nurse friends, "You've already met Sharon. That's Maria, Helen, and Betty."

"Hello." He smiled at them. They waved at him. Sharon was looking down at her shoes, "Stop looking down, it makes you look nervous."

"What?" She asked. 

"You look nervous. I know I wouldn't want my nurse to look nervous. Look up and make yourself look bigger than you actually are, it makes you look confident." He told her. He knew that because he'd been using that trick for years. She straightened herself out and put her head up, "Better."

He smiled at her again. His head pounded, but he was happy to help her. Steve kept a firm grip on his wrist. They all sat together in big squishy chairs and ate. The couple had aimed themselves so that Bucky was sitting in front of Steve. 

"So, how'd you two meet?" Maria asked. What Bucky couldn't see was the gestures Steve was making to keep the girls distracting him. 

"We went to college together. I honestly have no idea how we actually ended up meeting each other because he was studying medicine and I was in computer sciences. I don't remember how we ended up crossing paths." Bucky said. He didn't notice how Steve had taken down his hair and was now braiding it together. 

"It was finals week and we were in the library at the same time and I used post-its on everything and you'd leave me little messages. Until you actually signed one and let me find you." Steve reminded. He finished up the braid as quietly as he could. 

"Oh yeah. I called you Glasses for the first month of knowing you existed. Because you wore big, thick glasses then, and you had braces." Bucky laughed to himself. He hadn't been this clear headed in along time. Steve kissed the top of his head. 

"Wait what did you actually write to him?" Maria asked. 

"Anything and everything. And you have very lovely cheekbones, just so you know." Bucky told her. She thanked him while trying to hide a smile. 

"Wait, if the first month of your friendship was through sticky notes, how'd you actually end up together?" Betty asked. She always looked like she was blushing, but she just had a very rosy face. 

"I invited him out for coffee, and gave him my phone number." Bucky said, "It took two years for him to notice that I was flirting with him. He's not exactly the brightest."

"Hey." Steve snapped back. 

"It's true. You're a total idiot. Remember that time you decided to jump in a lake after a blizzard?" Bucky asked. 

"I was hot." Steve defended. 

"You have asthma. I honestly don't care how long it's been since your last attack. When you have asthma, it gets worse when you're cold." Bucky reminded him. 

"It was fine, Buck."

"And there's a thing called hypothermia. I figured that, being a nurse, you'd know about that." Bucky told him. 

"Well I ended up fine. And I got to snuggle with you after." Steve couldn't stop the smile from spreading across his face. 

"Shut up, you ass." Bucky pouted. Betty giggled, "You should try living with this idiot for two and a half years, it's impossible. He's always sneaking out so he can go climb something, or jump off of something, or through something."

"You haven't been much better this past year you know." Steve whispered to him. 

"That's different." Bucky pushed him away, "I actually have a goal, believe it or not."

"What if we look back farther? Then how much of an idiot are you?" Steve kept his voice low so the others wouldn't hear him. 

"I said that's different." Bucky said, "Now shut up, if you want to argue, wait until we get back home."

Steve kept quiet. Maria's jaw dropped. 

"What?" Bucky tilted his head. 

"You managed to shut him up. That's truly incredible." She said, "You are a miracle worker."

"Oh. Well thanks, I guess." Bucky really didn't know what just happened. He fiddled with his sleeve. 

"So this game? How is it?" Steve asked. 

"Brutal as all hell." Bucky chuckled a little, "There's blood and gore and death all over the place."

"Sounds like a super fun time." Steve said sarcastically. 

"And there's a cat and his name is Mr. Midnight. And there's this demon skull thing that shows up sometimes. And the attic was scary. And remember in Supernatural when demons go away?" Bucky asked. He was babbling, he knew that. He always babbled when he was excited. 

"I do remember that."

"That happened. And there were dead babies in the well. And I killed the bug. And the ant had ant porn. And there were baby pinecones. And before that happened I had to help the girl stop the red milk. Which happened because when the nurses tied her up, she would hurt herself with the ropes. Sidenote, don't try to do that, it's painful. I speak from experience." He continued. It took a few seconds for him to notice what he said. But when he did he crumpled a little.

"What?" Steve put a hand on his back. Thankfully the girls had gone back to chatting among themselves so they didn't hear what they said. 

"Nothing. You'll know next week. That was the deal." Bucky said. He out his hand on Steve's knee to reassure him. 

"But you said you tried to hurt yourself." Steve put his hand on his wrist, "I don't want you to hurt yourself."

"Steve, I'm not hurting myself anymore." He winced at that. 

"Anymore?" Steve was pulling him in closer. 

"I haven't purposefully hurt myself in nearly three years." Bucky tried to make him feel better. 

"But we were dating three years ago." Steve had his chest pressed against Bucky's back, "You hurt yourself while we were dating."

"Steve, we'll talk later." He told him, "But not here, not in front of everyone."

"But-"

"I said no." He snapped. 

"Okay." Steve backed down, "I can't make you do anything you don't want to."

"Thank you." Bucky breathed a sigh of relief. But he knew it wasn't over yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The game Bucky's playing is called Fran Bow. Which is an awesome Indie Horror game. I didn't spoil anything major. Depending on how smart you are, I might have helped out with a puzzle or two, but not much else.  
> You can buy the game here  
> http://store.steampowered.com/app/362680/
> 
> And this is my personal favorite Let's Play in case you don't want to buy it  
> https://youtu.be/seT7wHorSQg


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at me actually updating this! You should all be very proud of me. But my hiatus has let me think about the story a little more. This won't be a very long story, only about 10 chapters including a maybe Epilogue. And I would like to finish it quickly so that I can finally get it off the table.
> 
> Also, trigger warning for some vague descriptions of the abuse that Bucky had to endure as well as suicidal thoughts and self harm. 
> 
> Aren't we cheerful today?

Bucky had combed his hair. He'd gotten in the shower, washed it, and combed it. He even shaved the dark stubble from his face. He wore clean clothes. He felt almost human again. But he looked old. He felt old. He wanted so badly to erase the pain from his face. So he did the next best thing. He hadn't done this in over a year, but he remembered how to do what, more or less. And he had just restocked, so why not?

He picked up a tube of pale liquid. He twisted the cap off and dabbed it under his eyes. He blended it in with the rest of his face using his fingers. Next came a flat disk of peachy colored powder, compressed into its black case. He brushed it onto his face and neck. He looked at his own hands and watched them shake. Most of the withdrawal had subsided, but it was still obvious that he wasn't doing well. He took a deep breath and lifted a chocolate brown pencil to his eye. He was going to mess up. He was going to fail. But he stood his ground. He refused to be defeated by a pencil. He dragged it under his eyelashes, doing his best not to stab his own eye out. He wiped the makeup off of his lips with a towel and rubbed chapstick over them. 

He didn't really look better by the time he finished, but he didn't look dead. You couldn't see the dull gray dotted with patches of red. It looked like he slept peacefully every night. No one would know of the horrible things he dwelled on as the sun went down. They couldn't see the years he'd spent crawling on the floor, choking on a dog collar tied to tight around his neck. Gone were the times he felt so alone and so sad, that he felt nothing at all. He had erased so much suffering with just a swipe of a brush. It was almost as if those days hadn't existed. As if he didn't know what it felt like to not eat for weeks at a time. Like he heard stories of violence and hatred and didn't think _that's not that bad._ He could almost pretend he couldn't imagine anything worse happening than a wage gap. He didn't have to know what it felt like to be tortured, abused, silenced, neglected, beaten into brutal submission. 

Except that he did. He could still see the leash tied to his neck. He still couldn't wear scarfs without consuming a bottle of Voda beforehand. He could feel the heels of Pierce's feet digging into his back. 

He deserved it. He was born broken. He shouldn't be alive. He should have taken more pills all those years ago. It was his fault. He was a boy that liked other boys. A sin that could never be forgiven. He wore makeup. He loved to put flowers in his hair. He was a boy. That was incorrect. How dare he live on with such a terrible weight strapped to his back? He wondered if his razor was still hidden away. Just one line down his forearm. That's all he needed. He could watch the blood pour out of himself, vision fading to black.

But he couldn't. It was Thanksgiving. He promised Steve he'd go. But he needed relief, fast. He popped off loose board from the floor. Neatly wrapped up in a cloth, he pulled out his razor. 

Minutes later he stepped out, wincing a little at the pain. Steve grinned at him and scooped him up. He kissed him gently on the lips. He stepped back to see the expression on his face.

"What's wrong?" Steve asked, "You look like you're hurt."

Bucky could remember watching the Shining with Steve a while back. He remembered watching an elevator open up and blood filing the room. He felt like the elevator. The doors sliding open and everything flooding out, chaotic and without remorse. His cheeks were quickly stained with tears, his eyes red and irritated. He begged forgiveness for his horrible mistake. He couldn't hold back the sobs that escaped his lips. Steve pulled his head towards his chest, rubbing his back slowly. Bucky could feel his heart beat. It was constant. He focused on that. The steady thump. Always the same. Never changing. Something solid in the chaos. 

"What happened?" Steve asked him, carefully pressing kisses to his forehead. Bucky explained himself as best he could between hiccups. The sliced open skin. The blood. The pain he felt when his clothes rubbed against the cuts. Steve took him to the couch and held his hands gently. Bucky wiped his eyes. Steve asked him where they were, and Bucky told him. His upper thighs. Steve took a deep breath. 

"Could you take off your pants for me? I just to look at the cuts. That's all I want to do. I promise." Steve ran his fingers through Bucky's hair. All he could think of was the cruelty he was forced to deal with. He refused to become vulnerable. He shook his head violently. 

"No. No more. I don't want to." He couldn't breathe. He didn't want to feel that suffering again. 

"Bucky," Steve grew quiet, "I know that Pierce was physically abusive. And you don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. But did there happen to be sexual abuse along with it?" 

Bucky nodded slowly. His stomach flipped. He wanted to run and hide. Pierce would find out. He'd yell and kick him. There wouldn't be mercy given. But Steve pulled him in close again. Comforting and warm. 

"I'm so sorry. It probably doesn't mean much, but I really am." Steve spoke into his hair. The room was silent. 

"Once Pierce made me strip and he tied me to the bed. He-"

"You don't have to tell me anything. I'll find out when you want to tell me. But I do have something to tell you. Maybe it'll make you feel better." Steve stroked the back of his head. 

"What?" Bucky asked. Wanting him to continue. 

"I'm something called asexual. I don't have sexual feelings. To be honest, I think it's really gross and weird. So I can honestly say that I just want to see if you're okay. Does that help?" He explained. 

Bucky nodded a little. He focused on his breathing as Steve pulled his pants off. Steve sucked in a breath when he saw the damage. He stood up to get the first aid kit. He settled back on the couch. 

"Why would you do this to yourself?" Steve asked while he cleaned the wounds. 

"Because I deserve it. I'm a mistake. Boys aren't supposed to like boys." He explained in as few words as possible. 

"Did he tell you that?" Steve looked at him. He was blinking back tears. 

"Yeah. But he was right. I'm a sick person." Bucky let the tears stream down his cheeks. Steve stopped what he was doing to kiss him. He held his face in his hands.

"Let me explain something to you. Boys aren't supposed to like boys, that's true. But that doesn't mean that it's bad. People aren't supposed to fly, but we do that a lot. We aren't supposed to travel at 60 miles an hour, but most people do that every single day. Just because it wasn't intended, does not mean that it isn't right." Steve told him. He was trying so desperately to break through the wall of self-loathing and insecurity that Bucky had built himself. 

"But we designed those things. We choose to do them. I didn't choose to fall in love with you. I didn't decide that I wanted this." Bucky sobbed. He bit down on the back of his hand. Steve laced their fingers together to keep him from hurting himself more. 

"You're right. I didn't decide either. But you can't think like other people. They're cruel and they don't get it. So you have to think about yourself. Do I make you happy?" Steve asked him. 

"God yes." Bucky said. 

"So nothing else matters. We make each other happy. Who cares what else happens?" Steve asked. Bucky kissed him. Wrapping his hand around his neck and pulling him down. It only lasted a few seconds, but it still made him smile. 

"I love you so much, Steve." Bucky told him. 

"I love you too. And I'll be with you through all the shit you're going through right now. Let's get you cleaned up so we can go eat until we pass out." Steve smiled and sat back up. 

All Bucky could think of was how lucky he could be to find someone like him. And in that moment, for the first time in years, he didn't care about anyone else.


End file.
